


eleven years

by simplyclockwork



Series: 221B Ficlets [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: 221B Ficlet, Anniversary, Fluff, Johnlock - Freeform, Just really fuckin soft, M/M, Retirementlock, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-15 22:54:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29072115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/simplyclockwork/pseuds/simplyclockwork
Summary: Eleven years since the day they met, Sherlock and John take a moment to appreciate the small things.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Series: 221B Ficlets [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2153703
Comments: 66
Kudos: 136
Collections: Johnlock Anniversary - January 29th





	eleven years

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Одиннадцать лет](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29236176) by [Little_Unicorn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Little_Unicorn/pseuds/Little_Unicorn)



> My first 221B ficlet. Happy Johnlock Day ♥️

They’ve made their way here in fits and starts. Through hard times, thick and thin, through broken moments made whole by careful words.

In a garden behind an old Sussex cottage, Sherlock looks at John, sitting at his side. He takes in John’s quiet existence, breathes it in along with the scents of lilacs and carnations. The bright day and pollen-thick air taste heady on Sherlock’s tongue.

John speaks, and Sherlock offers a slow, lazy smile. “Eleven years,” John says in wonder, making Sherlock hum through upturned lips.

Their hands dangle from chair arms, fingers reaching out to brush in a seeking touch. Across the yard, Sherlock’s bees dart from hive to flower and back, their busy noise filling the backyard with the sounds of life.

“Eleven years,” Sherlock repeats. He turns his head, catches John’s hand and brings it to his face. His lips brush over John’s weathered knuckles with the ardour of a man at worship, and John sighs out a quiet breath. “Any regrets?” Sherlock asks.

John’s eyes shine with unwavering adoration. “Could have met you a little sooner, I suppose.”

Sherlock breathes out a soft chuckle. “Now, John, don’t be greedy.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” John teases.

With the sun warming his face, Sherlock closes his eyes, still smiling, and listens to the drone of the bees.


End file.
